


Come Into My Parlour

by staranise



Category: Sanctuary (TV), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Misogyny, Unexamined Privilege
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staranise/pseuds/staranise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After visiting the London Sanctuary, Charles will pretty much need to light fire to his dissertation and start over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Into My Parlour

**Author's Note:**

> An idea for an AU in which Helen Magnus lands on Charles's ignorance like a ton of bricks. I don't know if I can keep it up, so if anyone else wants to remix or continue this be my guest and let me know!

Raven brought in the mail, tossing a batch of it onto Charles's desk before launching herself onto the loveseat with a bounce. A bundle of her magazines fell to the floor as she began ripping open an airmail envelope.

"Letter from home?" he said bemusedly, laying his pen down next to his notebook.

"None of your business," she said, already stretched out on her back with the letter held in the air above her. Dangling secrets under his nose was a favourite pastime of hers, which made his agreement not to read her mind very frustrating.

Charles triaged his own mail in inverse order of interest. So much of his mail was mundane--bills, a letter from his bank, a bookseller letting him know some volumes he'd wanted had come in. He sorted letters to be stored away, responded to, or thrown out before taking the smallest envelope in his hands. Its paper was crisp and creamy, addressed in perfect script, and it contained a single sheet of similarily luxurious notepaper. He frowned at it.  


>   
> _17 September_
> 
>  _Dear Mr. Xavier,_
> 
>  _A mutual colleague informed me of your interest in genetically abnormal specimens. If you would be so kind as to call on me this Thursday next at 10am, I would be pleased to show you my research in the field, which I have been assured would be much to your interest._
> 
>  _Yours truly,  
>  Dr. Helen Magnus  
> Sanctuary House, London_

He set the oddly brief note down and began paging through the sheaf of notes on the corner of his desk, where he'd made notes toward a bibliography of sorts. Yes; he'd run across the name before. _Variations of the physical characteristics of the African mongoose_ in a 1921 journal.

A teratologist. An _old_ teratologist--sixty or seventy years at least. An old _female_ teratologist.

"Raven," he said aloud, holding the letter, "do I want to go to London and politely eat mouldy biscuits while an old woman shows me two-headed calf foetuses in jars?"

"Did you say London?" she said brightly. "Yes, you want to go to London. I'm coming with you. We can stay at the flat there."

"Oh, Raven." He laughed sympathetically. "You're finding Oxford a bit dull, aren't you?"

"The only thing that would make Oxford any worse is if I had to _study_ here. London's swinging. When are we going?"

After a moment, he sighed in quiet resignation and fished a sheet of notepaper out of his desk. "The end of next week. I'll talk to Professor McTavish and rearrange my Friday tutorial, and we'll stay the weekend."


End file.
